To Have a Heart
by Segunda Katigbak
Summary: Each kanji has their own reasons why they came out how they were. There are two trees in 'woods', and three trees in 'forest.' And then, to be 'in love' is to have a 'heart'. Without a heart, one cannot love.


**To Have a Heart**

**BY: MYLiFE'SBOAT**

Rating: T (for a few offensive words)

Summary: KyoHaru. Each kanji has their own reasons why they came out how they were. There are two trees in 'woods', and three trees in 'forest.' And then, to be 'in love' is to have a 'heart'. Without a heart, one cannot love.

_A February Special_

Ran through grammar check, unedited.

--

heart n : a hollow muscular organ that pumps blood around the body.

It was nothing more than just a simple composition of tissues that dictates existence. With it, you're breathing. Without it, you're dead. It was just there, keeping you alive, serving no other importance.

--

"Kyouya-senpai. In order to 'love', one needs a 'heart', right?"

He peered over his rounded glasses at the sound of her voice. He looked up from his calligraphy and blinked once, as he watched her carefully. "Why do you presume so, Haruhi?"

"You've done it all wrong," she told him suggestively, her eyes smiling. She snatched up the papyrus from the table where he worked and studied the graceful botches of black ink printed on the paper.

"Pardon me?" Kyouya put down his brush while weighing the words Haruhi just aimed to his fragile, little pride. He crossed his fingers on top of the table, and looked at her with a masked expression.

Haruhi giggled, clutching the paper on one hand and her stomach with the other. He gave her a weary look and asked dully, "What is it that you find amusing?"

"Your kanji is wrong," she told him, wiping the mirth out of her eyes. She placed the papyrus flat back on the table and grabbed the brush beside his hands to cross out the characters Kyouya had written down. "This character is written like this."

Kyouya leaned over slightly to look at what she was writing.

"Each kanji has their own reasons why they came out how they were," she explained. He listened. "There are two trees in 'woods', and three trees in 'forest,' are there not? And then, to be 'in love' is to have a 'heart'. Without a heart, one cannot love, right?"

She finished, handing the papyrus back to him. Kyouya stared at the paper.

"You're not a bad person, senpai." She told him. "You do have a heart."

He blinked again, his eyes only closing for a split-second. When he opened them, she was gone just as quickly, just as suddenly before he could comprehend what had happened.

Folding the paper to half, Kyouya placed it on top of his books that cluttered the desk. He closed his eyes cautiously and rubbed his eyelids before he leaned back on his leather chair. He was in his office, finishing a mountain of workload he had to complete before lunch. By noon, he had a date with Mr. Chen at a hotel and his schedule was jam-packed in the afternoon. He'd instructed his secretary not to disturb him as he worked but the more he was alone, the more he felt distracted.

Last he remembered, the old piece of papyrus has completely disappeared long ago when he had forgotten where he put it. He tried to look for it a few times before, flipping pages of old textbooks and rummaging through old notes, but his efforts yielded negative. Eventually, he decided to give up, telling himself it wasn't worthy of his efforts anymore. He was too old for high school nostalgia after all. Years later, he found himself staring at the same piece of paper he found stuck on a page of one of his favorite novels.

He had kept all his high school memorabilia back in a room (which was rarely opened) in his apartment. Most were personal items the host club has given to him as souvenirs after graduation, some were old textbooks and school uniform and old albums and photographs. He'd kept the thin piece of papyrus inside a box labeled as 'Haruhi's' beside Tamaki's and the twin's personal boxes but often, he remembered he'd pull it out to recall that small smile, those soft, large brown eyes, and that straightforward face he used to know.

Four years? Perhaps more. It has been a long time since they last saw each other. The last time he remembered he saw her was at his and Tamaki's graduation party and since then, communication became abrupt and seldom. He never expected Haruhi to be clingy regarding the past anyway. Knowing her, she'd rather look forward to the future than dwell in what happened once upon a time. Unlike the other members of the host club, Haruhi was the most distant. Maybe because she was too busy pursuing her own dream as a lawyer that she'd forgotten about them. Kyouya wondered if it was still his job to delve into her private life like he used to but then again, he was not that man anymore. He was also busy with his own life and he had more important things to do than just leisurely read other people's bio. He didn't care. At least he pretended not to care, anyway.

Kyouya opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a long moment, as if memorizing the geometric patterns that designed it. Half-consciously, he ran his fingers up to touch his breast pocket, pressing his right palm against his chest, feeling his own heartbeat. He listened to it quietly, with Haruhi's soft, blunt words lingering on the background.

"You do have a heart."

It resonated loudly on his ears.

"I do, huh?" he repeated to himself, almost chuckling. "What do you mean by that, Haruhi?"

--

Days later, fate seemed to mess around and after a few years of not seeing her, Kyouya was surprised to make out that familiar vision of the same girl he haven't seen in a very long time.

It was a funny thing, he joked inwardly. He never believed in destiny or anything of the sort, unlike Fuyumi who had a fetish about serendipity and fate. It was rubbish, he'd tell his sister when she would barge in his condo to talk him out of an unusual deal (like having him accompany her to some commoner's festival in New Year's Eve, no matter how much irrelevant it was). She'd often tell him he was that critical type who would never find true love if he always had that serious aura drift around him. Afterwards, Kyouya would snatch Fuyumi's copy of his room keycard and exactly drag her to the hallway and shut his door close—with the security chain in place.

But when he saw her that fateful day, right outside a lobby of a hotel with a cigarette stick between her lips, maybe he can give it a shot. Nothing was impossible, after all.

He was about to go back to his office that morning when he spotted her leaning against the wall beside a garbage bin. He didn't recognize her at first glance—longer brown hair, paler skin. The same large, brown eyes were still there behind thick-rimmed glasses and they were looking far ahead to somewhere Kyouya couldn't see. She was clad with office attire, her skirt running just above her knees. Her pointed shoes looked nasty and uncomfortable but she was the same Haruhi, with a stance as if she were always ready to give a fight.

He watched her for a moment as she took long drags of smoke from her cigarette and pumped it back to the air. She donned her cigarette butt on the lid of the garbage bin when she finished and threw it inside. Before Kyouya realized what he was doing, he had called her name aloud and she turned to look at him.

"Kyouya-senpai?" She recognized him soon and Kyouya felt her breath blow on his face when she sighed quietly. The whiff of fresh smoke filled his nostrils.

"I didn't know you smoked," he started.

Haruhi scoffed indifferently while fumbling her pockets for mint. "Sorry, is my breath that bad?"

The box rattled when she found it and popped two tablets inside her mouth. They hovered on the hotel entrance for a moment, waiting for each other to speak. Haruhi broke the silence.

"Don't tell me you own this hotel," she accused, tasting the candy as it dissolved.

"No." He almost smiled. "I was just around for a meeting. How have you been doing?"

"Clerking for a law firm nearby." She shoved her hands inside her pockets. "Somebody dragged me here to lick ass so when I graduate, I get the big shots."

Kyouya chuckled in amusement at the choice of her words.

"How about you?"

"You'd rather not ask."

"Right, damn rich bastard."

"Damn bitch."

"Hm, thanks."

Later on, after Haruhi checked her afternoon schedule and found out she was free, Kyouya asked (ordered) his secretary to rearrange all of his appointments that day for later. They ended up in a bookstore named, A Quaint and Well-Lighted Place for Books, where Haruhi suggested (earning a well-aimed, "Interesting choice of title," from Kyouya), and they spoke about their lives, trying to catch up with each other. She talked about her father and his relentless money-spending. She talked about law school and such. Maybe years of being apart gets a person talk more about the years that passed without your presence. He listened well, struggling not to miss any.

"How about you, senpai?" she decided to ask. He glanced over the open book on his hands and contemplated her question for a moment. He shut it close and returned it to the shelf where he'd picked it up.

"I was married in Germany three years ago," his voice was broken.

"Was?" she repeated.

"It was arranged," he explained. "It didn't last."

"Did you love her?"

There was a long pause before he answered her question. "That was three years ago."

Basically, he didn't answer the question.

Haruhi chuckled this time and Kyouya felt taken aback. Evidently, her reaction wasn't much expected. "I never realized you'd be in love with anyone, you know."

"I'm guy," he reminded her coolly, offended with her actions. "Naturally, a guy falls in love with a girl. That's just the way it works."

"Don't give me that. You fell in love with her boobs, presumably," she joked while punching his shoulder lightly.

"I didn't just fell for her boobs, Haruhi," Kyouya regarded quietly.

"Never mind, you're always so serious." She turned her back on him and shuffled forward to the next shelf.

"Your definition of humor is beyond my comprehension," he told her. Haruhi shrugged him off intentionally and picked a coffee-table book from a shelf and began flipping its pages to occupy herself. By the time Kyouya finished watching her, he broke the silence. "You've forgotten, haven't you?"

She spun her head to his direction. "About what?"

"Nothing. I was just muttering to myself."

Eventually, they ended up having dinner together in a popular family restaurant serving ramen, fatty tuna, okonomiyaki and (to Kyouya's delight) mushrooms. They sat across each other in a low table, talking about this time, the host club (about Tamaki in France, Kaoru sharing his bedroom with another man and with Hikaru helping him design for his fashion show in Paris, Mori finally settling to have a Swiss girlfriend and Hani working up his new business—pastry business). Kyouya ordered sake and mushrooms and Haruhi did same and requested for fatty tuna. They ate when their orders arrived and Haruhi talked some more after a few bites.

"You're a lot more talkative than the Haruhi I've known," Kyouya observed while draining his third order of alcohol, served in a lame, (in his opinion regarding the restaurant's customer's service) small paper cup.

"Things change," she told him while fishing her pockets for a cigarette stick. He offered Kyouya one and he declined politely.

"You changed a lot," he told no one in particular as he ordered for another paper cup.

"You think so?" She blew smoke through her nose and Kyouya waved the nasty smell away with his hand.

"Maybe."

There was a long silence as he emptied his drink while watching Haruhi finish her stick with slight revulsion. They sat beside each other, listening to the rowdiness that surrounded them. When they were done mulling over their own thoughts, they paid for their bill and left the restaurant for a short walk under the moonlit sky.

The crisp spring breeze blew against them softly and Haruhi hugged herself close. Kyouya noticed her shiver but he had nothing to offer her warmth. He'd left his jacket in the car, dammit. He rushed beside her and the walked side by side with Haruhi offering a few bits of conversation. Later that night, when they figured it was too cold and their clothes offering so little warmth, Kyouya offered a ride to her apartment building. They lingered for a minute or two by the door, not knowing what to say. After all, it has been an eventful evening (an eventful day actually) and the words has disappeared entirely, leaving a huge space for silence to fill in. Kyouya cut through, this time giving Haruhi a brief smile and tipping his head to one side to gesture his good bye. He handed her his business card and told her that it was okay if she called. Haruhi said she'd make sure as she fisted the length of his tie and tugged it down. Kyouya's head lowered and his lips met hers in a sloppy manner. He tasted nicotine and mint and alcohol but that was probably fine. He didn't mind in the first place. He took a step closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and deepening the kiss. They were breathless when they pulled apart and Kyouya licked her swollen lips for the last time before he disentangled his limbs away from her. Haruhi waved him goodbye and Kyouya made his quiet way back to his car.

Finally, he decided it was probably just the alcohol. Yes, it was just the alcohol. He was not a very good drinker.

--

She didn't call the next day and the day after that. And the day after that and so forth. He didn't expect her to call anyway (a big lie) and she was probably busy with school that she had not much time to dial his number and bother to hear his voice. Besides, they were not high school kids anymore (high school people call each other every minute) and—his phone rang and he ran over an expensive China vase which toppled over (he was just in time to catch it in a bear hug)—they were old enough to bear with ages of not hearing from each other.

Breathless, Kyouya answered the phone. "Haruhi?"

"Yes, honey?" the female voice from the other end of the line jibed mockingly.

He snapped, "What is it, Garcia?"

"Snap out of it lover boy," she said. "Want me to look for Haruhi?"

"Oh, shut up. What do you want?"

"Your sister is pestering me," she went straight to the point. "I gave her the copy of your keycard for duplication. I'll resign first thing in the morning."

Kyouya sighed in resignation. "Don't resign. I love you, Garcia. Don't, I beg you."

"Wow, I'm quite flustered. What's going to happen to Fuyumi now?"

"I'll kill her."

"Good luck on that. If there's anything you need—"

"Fujioka Haruhi, #31 Furikawa Street, Tokyo. She attends at the nearest law school in the area. Get her schedule."

The next day, Haruhi was surprised to see him inside her apartment room.

"Senpai? How did you get inside?"

Apparently, not only did Garcia fetch him information, she also got him a duplicate key of her apartment door. He had to remind her later to follow his instructions properly or else she would have to look for another job.

"Your roommate allowed me in," he told her, as if it was basic information.

"Since when did I ever have a roommate?"

"Haruhi, you should know that," he said. "It's quite rude to forget people."

"Kyouya-senpai," Haruhi stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "You're weird."

She dropped her things on the floor and strode to the low table where he sat. A large, opened pizza box was on the table.

"It's . . . full of mushrooms," she observed quite skillfully. Kyouya was impressed.

"Uh-huh."

"Is that—a mushroom-flavored pizza or a pizza-flavored mushroom?"

"Consider it both," he said as he tugged a slice and smeared it with hot sauce. He finished it with two large bites.

Later that night, a mysterious Blue Ray player appeared out of thin air to replace Haruhi's old DVD player. She had the foggiest of ideas where it came from as she flipped through Kyouya's CD collection he kept in his car and they settled on the living room with freshly-brought convenient store canned soda as the movie rolled.

Thee days later, Haruhi caught herself talking to her reflection on the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She was not particularly sure about what was happening between her and Kyouya. It was not something a friend you haven't seen in years do to another friend (that didn't happen when he saw Tamaki a few months back) but maybe she wasn't obliged to care. Nothing was wrong about what they were doing anyway and the oddities were just slightly questionable. Kyouya is Kyouya and she's not about to argue with that. She rinsed her mouth and went to bed, dismissing further thoughts of the man in question.

--

Garcia was not the only one who noticed the slight change. After all, a slight change of his personality is like a miracle granted from Up There, making it three times obvious and shocking than it should be. Kyouya startled Fuyumi one, fine Sunday morning as well when she sneaked inside his condo with the key she produced from his secretary. Kyouya was in the kitchen at ten in the morning, humming to himself and brewing a cup of coffee.

"I must have gotten the wrong keycard, sorry." She was about to turn around and unbolt the door but Kyouya called her attention.

"How rude," he remarked while occupying the stool on the bar counter. Fuyumi casually turned her head around, rushing then to grab Kyouya's face and examine it closely.

"It's strange," she told him. She cringed inwardly when Kyouya made no move to jerk his head away from her hold. Fuyumi eventually let go. "What happened?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't tell me my brother started smoking pot," she warned while rummaging his drawers for something to eat. She spotted a box of cereals, found out it was expired and threw it on the garbage compactor. She leaned in across the counter, her elbows propped against the granite surface. "Are you?"

Kyouya snorted. "Of course not," he denied truthfully while sipping his espresso.

"Then what is it?" Fuyumi poked further. Kyouya waved her off.

"I need my fridge stocked," he veered away and his sister narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She stood up, inwardly formulating a plan in her head to blackmail his brother.

"I'll help you with the groceries if you tell me about it."

The earth rotated clockwise. "Deal."

--

"So," Fuyumi started while tearing off the plastic wrapping of her ice cream. Kyouya held his groceries on one hand and his own ice cream with the other. "Basically, it was about Haruhi?"

He was smiling. "Yes."

Of all the people Kyouya opened up, he trusted Fuyumi the most, no matter how many times she broke his trust (like divulging his deepest and darkest secrets to the other members of the host club and to Garcia). Maybe because she was the only person in the household who gave him concern or maybe because Fuyumi was just a skilled blackmailer that he instantly sensed trouble in her aura before he would make up a lie. Regardless, Fuyumi was still there when Audrey broke the marriage off and left him damaged. She was his own one-member-team support blanket.

"Do you love her?"

Kyouya's ears perked up, the smile vanishing from his face. "What?"

"Do you love her?"

He nibbled on his ice cream for a while mulling over her question. "Of course not."

"Then why did you mention her?" she pressed on while pulling him up to rest for a while on a bench nearby. Kyouya sat down beside her, staring at empty space. He shrugged unknowingly. Fuyumi weighed down the silence when he didn't speak a word.

"Kyouya," she started. "I've told you about this before. Don't dwell too much on the past because it's going to hurt you more."

"No, I'm not dwelling about the past," he lied quickly and Fuyumi noticed the sudden change of his tone. Truth be told, if there was one person he longed to forget, it was Audrey and Fuyumi was aware of this. They were together for two years and what they've been through was much deeper than what he had expected in a marriage between two businesses. Audrey was a splendid woman and Kyouya, despite swearing to himself he'll never fall in love with a girl match-made by his father, caught himself drawn to her. She was not just the beauty and the brains. She was a wife and a wife to him at that. Audrey did not just pass him by. She stayed.

No one spoke for a moment as a gush of wind blew to their direction. Kyouya basked in the unusual afternoon chill and then stood up, disposing the empty ice cream carton in the trashbin. Fuyumi did the same and silently, she followed Kyouya to the car park.

When they reached the highway, Kyouya finally broke the silence. "Do you think I have a heart?"

Fuyumi looked at him and smiled.

--

He sat on the couch with the TV on but with the volume muted. An enormous photo album sat on his lap and Kyouya flipped through the leaves, glancing at each page quickly and then turning it one after the other in a hurried succession. He recognized the green eyes, the blonde curls, the critical stare, the playful smile. Sometimes, he wondered why he let them go. He'd gotten so much used to them being around before but it seemed as if he wasn't yet used to them gone. After Audrey, he never really had any serious relationships and he'd think about Haruhi's words.

"You do have a heart."

When the marriage turned to their first anniversary and he'd remember Haruhi saying that, he'd smile. Kyouya would glance to the direction of his wife with a goofy grin on his face and call out, "I love you," halfway across the house. He knew she was right. Yes, he had a heart and it was Audrey who wholly received it and he was glad at that.

--

heart n : where a person is most vulnerable to pain

--

When the marriage was over, it lasted two years. As he watched her walk away to the gates of the airport that afternoon, he hovered in the lobby, mulling over what just happened and how it did. The papers were signed and she was leaving. Damn you, Haruhi. You were wrong.

That was the time the old piece of papyrus where Haruhi's handwriting blotted the paper went missing. That was the time he'd stopped believing, loving.

Three years later, it showed up again.

Kyouya was not a person who believed in serendipity or destiny or anything crap. Life is just a matter of coincidence. Opportunities come and whoever grabs it is triumphant. It was not 'for whom,' instead it was 'who will.'

He shut the photo album close and a moment later, Haruhi was on the phone.

"Senpai?"

"Do you believe in destiny?"

"What?"

"Tell me to forget about her. Tell me to say it was worthless to keep on thinking about the past. Tell me to move on."

"Er—senpai, I have an exam the next period. Can you call back later?"

"Do you love me?"

". . ."

"Kyouya-senpai?"

"What?"

"I have two movie tickets on a movie premier tomorrow night."

"I'll pick you up at seven."

--

heart n : the source and center of emotional life, where the deepest and sincerest feelings are located

--

**END**

--

A/N: Another rushed ending? I'm an expert at that. Recognize Garcia? Review, folks.

**Happy Heart's Month!**


End file.
